


Wanting you (can't get enough)

by ShadowedMelody (ShadowedMaiden)



Category: GOT7
Genre: (i'm sorry), Anal, Begging, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Gratuitous Smut, Hair Kink, Haircuts, I Blame Tumblr, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Crossdressing, M/M, Marking, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Whiny Youngjae, and feelings, maybe?? - Freeform, mild dirty talk, thigh worship, this is literally 6.5k of porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowedMaiden/pseuds/ShadowedMelody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youngjae gets a new hairstyle for the Fly in Bangkok concert. Jaebum struggles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanting you (can't get enough)

**Author's Note:**

> Theoretically, this takes place after the first night of the Bangkok concerts during GOT7's Fly Tour. I blame about 50% of its existence on my 2jae soulmate for feeding this filth, and the other 50% is entirely due to the haircut Youngjae got the day of the first concert. Actually, it's 100% the fault of the haircut. And Youngjae's thighs.
> 
> This story also ties into my 2jae relationship head canons seen in _Waiting for you (missing you)_ and _Needing you (am I too close?)_.  
>  [[Pictures](http://66.media.tumblr.com/80ce558ed6ba83c44d15843ad3779463/tumblr_o8qx68sYss1vrlhwco10_500.jpg) of [Youngjae](http://66.media.tumblr.com/ab8b3095d170aac56ef348e80791291c/tumblr_o8pub4Ss7W1tqnrzso1_500.jpg) from [the concert](http://65.media.tumblr.com/f65073888f957402b8a8fbb3951412e4/tumblr_o8rvzcWkF71qfgjluo2_500.jpg).]

“Ah–hyung?”

The startled gasp of Youngjae’s question is caught by Jaebum’s mouth, swallowed down as he crowds him back against the door of their hotel room, cupping his jaw and angling him up so he can fall deeper into Youngjae’s high moan as he presses back against him, hands fumbling at Jaebum’s waist until he manages to grab onto his hips, clinging to him like he’ll fall if he doesn’t. Slotting his body against Youngjae’s and slipping  a thigh between his legs to brace him, Jaebum presses closer, sucking his lip between his and teasing with his tongue. With another moan, Youngjae shudders, hips canting upward, but it's still not enough, still not close enough. Jaebum hasn't been close enough since Youngjae walked into the stylist’s room from the hair salon.

Forcing himself to pull back for air, Jaebum’s gaze catches on the wet, red glisten of Youngjae’s slack mouth before his eyes and fingers are inching upwards, and he feels another surge of heat throb low and hard as he watches his fingertips trace the short, soft fuzz of hair over Youngjae’s ear.

“Shit, Jae.” His voice catches in his throat, rasping. “Look at you.”

He traces along the line where the longer strands end, down to his neck, Youngjae shivering as fingers graze just behind his ear, and Jaebum can feel the flex of muscles as he swallows. 

“So is it okay, hyung? You didn't say anything before the concert…”

Jaebum drags his eyes back to Youngjae’s own, but his fingers keep up their slow patterns across the stretch of shaved hair. “As if you need to ask.”

Pushing his lip out even he shivers again at Jaebum’s touch against his hair, Youngjae curls his hands into the fabric of Jaebum’s shirt. “But, hyung. I want to know what you think. Does it look weird?”

Unimpressed, Jaebum leans back and raises an eyebrow, letting his right hand trail from it's place on Youngjae’s neck down his chest and side. “Don't try to convince me you don't know what kind of stupid question that is. You knew exactly what all those fans were thinking about your new style when you were on stage tonight. Looking like that. Dancing the way you were.” His hand finds Youngjae’s hip, fingers curling around the sharp blade of bone, and Youngjae’s lips part on a shallow gasp, tongue darting out to wet them. “You’re making a lot of girls pray for forgiveness for their thoughts tonight.”

“So only the fans liked it, then?” He forces his lip out again, even as as his pout trembles when his hips tilt forward under the pressure of Jaebum’s grip. “Only the girls? Not you, hyung?”

Alongside the combination of soft hairs under his fingers, the pleading look in his eyes, and the feel of him half-hard against his thigh, Youngjae’s teasing is too much to handle and Jaebum groans, pushing Youngjae flat against the door to bury his face in his neck and nip the skin, earning a sharp gasp and a jolt of Youngjae’s hips that has him grinding against his thigh. “Don't be a brat, Choi Youngjae.”

Fumbling against the back of his head, Youngjae’s fingers tangle in the strands, and Jaebum exhales harshly against his throat. “I’m –I’m not trying to be, hyung, I just…” He swallows, then again when Jaebum gives into the tempting proximity of skin and presses an open mouthed kiss against the stretch of his tendon. “I just want to know what you really think of it.”

Jaebum pulls back from the rapid thrum of Youngjae’s pulse beneath his lips. “What I really think?”

Youngjae’s nod makes strands of his fringe fall across his face, and Jaebum brushes them aside before his fingers drift back to tease again at the half-shaved patch revealed by the gesture. 

“What I really think…” His laugh feels a little strangled through the tightness in his chest. “I think you're trying to kill me before I even have a chance to get back to normal.”

Startling, Youngjae’s eyes widen. “What–”

He cuts off with a shuddering gasp as Jaebum’s fingers find their way back to where short fuzz gives way to longer strands and tangle in them. “When you walked into the dressing room earlier… Christ Youngjae, the way you look like this. And then with your makeup and those jeans they got you into…” He can't even find the words to finish, settling instead for tightening his grip on Youngjae’s hip and hair. “I couldn't stop thinking about you all night. Jinyoung and Jackson kept giving me shit for staring too much.”

“Re-really?” Mouth parted, Youngjae’s chest heaves as he inhales shakily, and Jaebum remembers the way he looked out of breath and sweaty while doing the body rolls in  _ Can’t _ that Jaebum’s pretty sure he hates Jinyoung for choreographing. The six inches between them suddenly feels far too much like the uncrossable meters on stage, except this time there's no audience or pressures or responsibilities to keep him from closing the distance and getting rid of the torturous space. Hands clenching, Youngjae whines as Jaebum’s teeth catch on his lower lip, then chokes on a moan when he drags his blunt nails across the short bristles on Youngjae’s scalp 

Almost as breathless, Jaebum breaks away and feels the corners of his mouth tugging up as he drinks in the sight of Youngjae gaping at him. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you like this. It’s one of the many things I couldn’t stop thinking about.”

Dark with blown pupils, Youngjae’s eyes are drowning Jaebum. Wrapping around his waist and tangling in the fabric of his shirt, his hands pull the hem up to expose Jaebum’s lower back to the air, but Jaebum’s skin tingles under the warmth of fingers brushing against it, the heat spreading to join the knot in his stomach. 

“Many things?” Youngjae’s voice shakes, and Jaebum can feel the jump of his pulse against his skin. It's intoxicating, and it's not enough. 

Finally backing away from where he's crowded Youngjae against the door, he lets his fingers creep under the hem of Youngjae’s T-shirt to hook in the belt-loops of his jeans, tugging him forward towards the bed across the room. Youngjae stumbles after him, hands yanking Jaebum’s shirt further askew, and mouth parting again under wide eyes. Jaebum can recognize the anticipation in them, but it's nothing yet compared to the desperation he's been feeling all night.

He drops down when his calves hit the mattress, spreading his knees to pull Youngjae closer. Youngjae’s thighs fit snugly between his own, and Jaebum’s gaze drifts, his grip loosening at Youngjae’s hips to trail down denim, fingers splaying across the firm curve of muscle and making them tremble when he squeezes. 

A glance up reveals Youngjae staring down at him with his lip between his teeth, eyes dark under the shadow of his fringe. The shaved side lets a triangle of light slash across his face, sharpening his jaw, and Jaebum’s lungs stutter to a stop. For a moment, they're frozen like that.

“Hyung…” Youngjae’s voice is a whispered whine, and Jaebum’s fingers tighten instinctively, earning another tremor and a gasp.

“I've also been thinking about you looking at me the way you are now. Fuck. I’d sell my soul to whoever designed that hairstyle just for you to wear it like this.” There's enough light hitting his right cheek that Jaebum can see the spread of color from his neck.

“Don't make fun of me.”

Jaebum’s short bark of laughter is ill-timed, but the idea this being a joke is too bizarre to fathom with the dark thrum of heat under his skin. He slides his hands around the back of Youngjae’s thighs when he flinches at the sound, coaxing him even closer and squeezes again, earning another soft whine.

“I couldn't be more serious” The flush in Youngjae’s cheeks is a dark red. “You really don't believe me?”

Shrugging, Youngjae ducks his head, the fall of hair emphasizing the new style once again, and Jaebum wants to tangle his fingers in the long strands, tilt his head and mouth along the exposed skin of his neck.

“I mean.” Youngjae’s voice is hesitant, and Jaebum forces himself to stay still and wait, but he can't pull his gaze from the play of shadow across his jaw. The flex of muscle under his hands as Youngjae shifts is addicting, and Jaebum’s fingers trail down along the seam of his jeans. “I know the fans liked it, but… they like everything, hyung.”

“Youngjae. Baby.” Jaebum follows the lines of muscle back to Youngjae’s hips, then up under the hem of his shirt and along the soft ridges of muscle. “Believe me, it's not just your fans who were suffering because of you.”

“Suff-suffering?” His voice breaks at Jaebum’s fingers glide up his chest, and brush over the nub of his nipple, and Jaebum tightens his legs around Youngjae’s as they twitch. 

There's too much fabric in the way, too much obscuring Jaebum’s view, and he delays his answer in favor of pushing Youngjae’s shirt higher, leaning in to press his lips to the exposed skin. It's soft and hot, still smelling of the soap he used after the concert, and Jaebum can't resist the urge to taste, Youngjae whining sharply at the swipe of tongue.

Holding his shirt in place, keeping him exposed, Jaebum leans back, drinking in the sight of him with a slice of shadow across his face and the shave of his undercut clearly visible above his parted mouth and the flat stretch of exposed abdomen.

“You look incredible, Jae. Fuck.” Youngjae’s swallow is audible. “Everything was ten times harder during the concert when I couldn’t stop thinking about this either. About what it’d be like to get you out of those clothes, to tangle my fingers in your hair. You looked so confident and composed tonight. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to watch you fall apart under my touch.” He leans in again, brushes his lips against Youngjae’s stomach. “Under my mouth.”

A whimper slips out as Youngjae shivers bodily, and he already looks like he’s shaking apart when Jaebum pulls back. It sharpens the heat in his veins, and he’s suddenly intensely aware of how close his crotch is to Youngjae’s skin, the throbbing there an almost painful ache.

Youngjae doesn’t protest when Jaebum coaxes him around, even as they struggle to maneuver on the bed, neither of them willing to fully let go of the other as they shuffle back until Youngjae’s leaning against the pillows. 

Only when Jaebum drags Youngjae’s shirt over his head does Youngjae release his own grip on Jaebum’s shirt, just to grab for it again as soon as Jaebum’s thrown the item aside. “Yours too, hyung. Please.”

Grinning, Jaebum yanks it off, tossing it behind him, and Youngjae’s eyes drop to his chest immediately, hovering fingers crossing the rest of the distance to trail along ribs, and Jaebum’s grin fades as his lungs catch, the heat of the touch distracting and exhilarating. Youngjae’s expression is focused as he runs his fingertips down Jaebum’s sides, and the usual softness of his features is altered with the cut of his hair in a way that fills Jaebum with a craving to see how other expression look now, a more heated version of the tingling excitement he feels with the changes of every era.

He fumbles for the button of Youngjae’s jeans. “Your turn again.”

Even his smile looks different as Youngjae huffs out a laugh and lifts his hips to allow the denim to be pulled over his round thighs and disposed of in another abandoned heap, a sharpness to his cheekbones that makes him look mischievous, and Jaebum’s lungs catch when his fingers dart down to Jaebum’s jeans in turn, though his frown when he struggles with getting the tight fabric down his hips is familiar enough that Jaebum can’t help laughing.

“That’s what you get for being impatient, babe.”

Youngjae’s pout never fails make Jaebum’s chest clench. “I just want to see you.”

Shaking his head slowly, Jaebum tugs his jeans off the rest of the way and settles back down, kneeling between Youngjae’s thighs. The stretch of plush muscle around him is distracting, and he gives in to the urge to touch that he’s been denying himself for hours. The flesh is hot under his fingers, and Youngjae’s choked sound when he squeezes drags his gaze back to where Youngjae is watching him with his lip between his teeth, the flush in his cheeks already spreading down his bare chest. 

He’s beautiful, and Jaebum’s heart clenches as he exhales harshly. “You can’t even imagine, Youngjae. I’ve been craving this view all night.”

“You’re too cheesy, hyung.” The color in Youngjae’s skin has darkened, and his hand comes up to sweep through his hair nervously, but the result reveals even more of the shaved section, and Youngjae chokes again, hips twitching when Jaebum’s grip tightens.

The reaction brings Jaebum’s attention back to his hands, eyes fixed on his fingers as he loosens his grasp and trails them along the skin, coaxing out tiny shudders from the muscles as he hears Youngjae’s breathing turning into tiny panting gasps.

“I’m only being honest, Jae. If you only knew how you looked on that stage tonight, you’d understand how hard it was for me to see you all night and not be able to touch you.” The bed creaks as he moves, shifting so he can press a kiss to the inner curve of Youngjae’s thigh.

Youngjae’s voice is breathless. “But we did touch. We–”

“Not like this.” Jaebum shifts to the other thigh, pressing his lips to the skin again as his fingers continue their wandering patterns and Youngjae whimpers. “Not enough. Not the way I wanted to. They way I couldn’t stop thinking about. Fuck, when you put your knee on me, your thighs right there and exposed like that.” He increases the pressure of his fingers, dragging against the skin that’s exposed again for him now. “I will never complain about girl group dances again.

Youngjae’s legs are shaking under Jaebum’s fingers, his own hands curled in fists on his hips. “Wha-what?”

Feeling his self control slipping with the memories of the stage playing through his mind too clearly to ignore, Jaebum presses his lips to warm muscle and lingers there “Have you seen what you look like in that skirt, baby? So much of your legs exposed, so far up your thighs… Fuck. I couldn't stop thinking about how close they were. What they would look like with my mark on them.” Caught up in the thought, Jaebum lets his teeth scrape against skin and Youngjae’s head falls back as he whines high in his throat.

“Hyung, you–you can't leave marks or else–”

Jaebum trails his mouth higher, darts his tongue out, and Youngjae cuts off with another gasp. “Your shorts come down this far, don't they?”

Youngjae’s muscles are jumping under Jaebum’s hands, his chest barely moving as he holds his breath. “Ye-yes.”

“Then no one will know.” Without waiting for a response, Jaebum shifts higher, mouth latching onto the skin just below the hem of his boxers, and Youngjae’s back arches off the mattress as he keens. Jaebum can't keep his hands still, tracing chaotic patterns as Youngjae’s fingers find his hair and tangle against his scalp, and it’s Jaebum’s turn to groan. He's achingly hard as he pulls back to eye the dark, angry mark, and his fingers tremble when he runs them over it, lungs catching with Youngjae’s whimper. “There. Just for me.” He looks up to find Youngjae staring at the mark, eyes wide, and he feels another rush of heat at the intensity of them. “And you.”

Swallowing hard, Youngjae’s eyes flick up. “Then-then shouldn't there be two, hyung?”

Youngjae’s legs shake as his mouth finds his other thigh, and Jaebum can't resist dragging blunt nails down the tense clench of muscle, groaning low in his throat again as Youngjae cries out and he feels the responding shudder against his mouth. Darker than the first, the second mark is a glaring blemish against his skin, and Youngjae’s fingers find it first, tracing over the purpling stain and making Jaebum forget how to breathe. He drags his gaze back to Youngjae’s face, to the messy sweep of his hair across his forehead, and he stretches over him to close in desperately–catching Youngjae’s open mouth and latching onto his lip, working against it with the same bruising force as Youngjae whines high and needy, arching off the mattress again. 

Jaebum grunts, losing his focus on his task for a moment as Youngjae’s hips press into his, and then he's pressing back, grinding down against him while Youngjae breaks away to gasp out a jumbled version of Jaebum’s name and an English swear word, back curving as his hips thrust up into the friction. Leaving him to gasp for air, Jaebum mouths along his jaw and neck until he feels the brush of short hairs against his skin. With a harsh exhale he rubs his cheek along the soft stubble as he grinds down again, and Youngjae almost sobs as his fingers scrabble at Jaebum’s hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Hyung. Hyung, please.”

A broken whine, his voice makes Jaebum shiver, and he presses down instinctively, his hands flexing against the mattress where he's bracing himself.

“Please what, baby?” His throat is tight around the words, and Youngjae whines again, hips thrusting weakly like he can somehow push them even closer. 

“Hyung.” He drags the word out, tone pleading, and Jaebum can't help giving him a hint of what he knows he wants, rolling his hips in a circle, and Youngjae’s head presses back as he whimpers. 

“Are you hard, Jae?” It’s a pointless question, Youngjae’s erection digging into the hollow of his hip, but Youngjae nods, whining again low in his throat. Jaebum presses a kiss into the skin above the sound, then shifts, rolling sideways and putting space between their bodies, and his lips twitch at Youngjae’s sudden whimper, feeling them curve into a grin as he meets his startled gaze. “Now you know how hyung felt all night.” Youngjae’s eyes are wide, and he stares at him wordlessly as Jaebum shifts again, sliding lower. “It's a good thing those dresses have full skirts, or else everyone would have seen what you do to me, baby.”

Youngjae swallows. “But I didn't do anything.”

Snorting, Jaebum tries to ignore the interested throb his dick gives as he tracks the bob of Youngjae’s throat. “So what do you call that haircut? What do you call the way you danced and sang today?” He’s low enough now to reach again, and his eyes drop as he trails his fingers along the skin, finding the red marks and circling them as Youngjae’s muscles jitter under his touch. “In the skirt and out of it, you were hypnotizing, Youngjae. I couldn't stop staring at you, thinking about you.” He lets his gaze drift, trailing up the round swell of Youngjae’s thigh until he's taking in the sight of his boxers straining over the hard outline of his cock, a wet patch already staining the front. His stomach clenched and his own dick throbbing painfully in response, he swallows, wetting his lips. “Thinking about what I wanted to do to you.

Youngjae whimpers when Jaebum’s fingers follow the path of his gaze, dancing over trembling muscles to graze the taunt stretch of fabric, and he keens when Jaebum teases over the wet stain, hips thrusting up against his touch.

“Please, hyung.” His voice is a breathless plea now, and Jaebum can feel his resolve to drag this out weakening. 

“What do you want, baby?”

Whining long and high, as Jaebum brushes over the fabric again, Youngjae forces the words out. “I want you, hyung. Please.”

Youngjae’s begging has never been possible to resist for long, and Jaebum doesn't have the self control to make either of them suffer any longer now, but he hesitates long enough to drink in the image of Youngjae sprawled on the bed, skin flushed dark across his bare chest in contrast to the white sheets his hands are tangled in, the tent of his boxers made obvious by his knees splayed on either side of Jaebum, angry marks marring his shaking thighs. His slanted eyes are dark under hooded lids, and his fringe is sticking to his forehead on one side while the short hairs on the other side stick up like they’ve been electrocuted under Jaebum’s repeated attentions. Jaebum has been imagining this all night, but the reality is beyond what he could have envisioned. 

His fingers are shaking to match the trembling of Youngjae’s legs as he hooks them in the elastic of his waistband, tugging it down, and Youngjae groans as his cock springs free to arch toward his stomach. The hard curve is flushed a dark red, already beaded with precum at the tip, and Jaebum has to force himself to look away as he maneuvers Youngjae’s boxers off completely. He's going to have a hell of a time searching for the garment later, but he flings them into some far corner anyway, much more concerned at the moment about getting his mouth where he's been fantasizing about for hours, and his hands find Youngjae’s legs as he leans back in, stroking along his thighs and relishing the shiver of muscle and the sharp whimper that he earns when he ghosts hot air across his tip. 

The whimper turns into a wordless cry when he wraps his lips around the head, using his tongue to swipe at his slit and catch the sour beads of liquid before pushing lower, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, and Youngjae’s thighs tense under his hands, straining as his hips buck up and he cries out again out for Jaebum. 

Easing the pressure, Jaebum loosens his jaw as he sinks lower, and Youngjae’s hands scrabble at his hair, the sharp sting of pain sending a tingling flare along Jaebum’s spine. “Hyung, it’s–it’s too much, I can’t– I want–”

Jaebum pulls off, shifting back enough that he can Youngjae’s face, eyes latched onto Jaebum even as he presses back against the pillows. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Youngjae’s nod is just a touch shy of desperate, and it has a different aura under the fall of his hair, his eyes and features somehow seeming more intense, and Jaebum feels his own boxers getting damp with a sharp pulse of heat.

It’s almost painful to pull himself away from Youngjae to find the condoms and lube hidden in his bags, but turning around to see Youngjae again from a distance makes him freeze, and Jaebum wonders if he’ll never get used to the sight of the other boy like this, spread out and waiting for him, hard and desperate, or if it’s only the intensity of the new change, of the built up desperation and anticipation that makes him weak in the knees for a moment.

It’s Youngjae’s impatient whine and outstretched, coaxing hand that shocks him back to the present, and he almost falls onto the mattress beside him, giving into his grasping hands to slide up his body and press their mouths together, chasing Youngjae’s tongue into his mouth when the younger uses it to tease him, and it’s only Youngjae’s dick grinding into his thigh and leaving streaks of precum against his skin that convinces him to pull away from the hot press of his lips.

Sliding back down Youngjae’s body, Jaebum marks his progress with his mouth, trailing kisses along skin and stopping to tease the pink nubs of flesh on his chest until Youngjae is almost sobbing at the oversensitivity, his hips thrusting into the air uselessly before Jaebum takes pity and closes his hand around his cock as he trails lower along Youngjae’s abdomen. He keeps the drag of his hand slow as he kisses his way down his stomach, not wanting Youngjae to come too soon, even if he seems determined to rush through his release by the way he’s thrusting up into Jaebum’s grip, mumbling nonsense as Jaebum sucks another mark above Youngjae’s hipbone before pulling back.

He tightens his fist, trying to halt Youngjae’s movements, and Youngjae keens, opening his eyes from where they’ve slipped closed to eye Jaebum with a franticness that’s almost angry.

Jaebum can’t help chuckling, letting go of Youngjae’s cock in order to rub along his thigh soothingly instead. “Slow down, Jae. We’ve barely started, and I can’t let you come twice tonight, not with the performance tomorrow.”

“But hyung–”

Jaebum interrupts his attempted persuasion with a light smack against Youngjae’s thigh that makes him glare and pout, despite the flushed arousal staining his cheeks. “Not tonight, baby. Tomorrow, when you don’t have to perform the next day.” Stretching, Jaebum can just reach Youngjae’s cheek, and the younger forgets his irritation to lean into the press of fingers. “Maybe we’ll try for three, okay?” The flare of anticipation in Youngjae’s eyes settles low in Jaebum’s stomach, and he realizes too late that he won’t be able to think about anything else for the next day. He swallows hard, trailing his fingers down Youngjae’s neck and torso to rest on his hips again. “So be good for me okay, babe?”

Youngjae nods, biting his lip and closing his eyes as he clearly tries to slow his frantic breaths.

Jaebum fumbles behind him for the lube he dropped, and Youngjae’s eyes open again at the click of the lid. Jaebum trails his fingers along his thigh again, unable to resist the round curve, and smiles. “Ready?”

Nodding again, Youngjae proves his point by spreading his legs further and pulling his knees to his chest, and Jaebum’s cock throbs painfully. He’s still not used to and perhaps will never be used to the the view of Youngjae exposed and waiting for him like this, and he covers a sudden, overwhelming rush of emotions by squirting the gel onto his fingers and rubbing them to warm it before letting himself touch the skin Youngjae’s offering him.

Even when his own dick is an aching reminder that this is a torture to himself as well, he can never resist the urge to touch and tease Youngjae, and he traces his finger around the bottom of Youngjae’s balls first, watching the reaction, and he can see Youngjae’s hole clenching already as Youngjae whines at him to stop teasing. When he finally allows his finger to rub over the puckered ring, Youngjae’s moans out a shuddering exhale, and Jaebum’s own lungs tighten as he feels the muscles flutter under his touch. The tip of the digit slips in easily when he presses, no hint of rejection in Youngjae’s body, and it’s been like that since the beginning, but he’ll never get used to the physical evidence of Youngjae’s acceptance of him in every way.

He keeps his movements slow as he pushes deeper, even as Youngjae whimpers for him to go faster and his own body screams at him to give into the urge to fuck into the tight, clenching heat around his finger as quickly as possible, but the last thing he wants to do is cause him pain, so he takes his time–working him through the first finger carefully, then the second, and finally adding the third when he’s met with almost no resistance, and Youngjae almost screams when he finally gives in to his pleading and pushes deep enough to find his prostate, aiming the final thrusts of his fingers for the spot every time as Youngjae gasps and sobs out a incomprehensible stream of words in at least two languages.

His back is a sharp curve off the mattress as he rocks down against Jaebum’s hand, his neck a long stretch of throat, flushed dark and damp with sweat, and Jaebum wishes he could capture the moment and preserve it forever, wants to drag it out and make it last for hours so he can let it sink into his memory, but Youngjae’s pleas to “ _ stop teasing, hyung, please,” _ make it impossible to ignore the way his own dick is hard and aching, his boxers sticking to his skin with every shift.

Thrusting deeper, Jaebum watches Youngjae arch up again, pulling his knees to his chest and choking out a sob as Jaebum presses his fingers to that spot and rubs circles against it and precum streaks across his stomach as he rocks even further onto Jaebum’s hand.

Jaebum can feel his mouth pulling up into a smirk at how clearly desperate they both are, and he can’t help teasing. “Are you ready, baby?”

Youngjae’s flailing hand misses him by half a meter, but the intended smack is clear, and Jaebum grins fully despite frantic pulsing under his skin.

“I hate you, hyung.”

Laughing breathlessly, Jaebum finally slips his fingers out of Youngjae, dropping a kiss onto the curve of his thigh below his raised knee as he wipes them clean on the his own boxers before dragging the fabric down and scabbling for the condom.

Youngjae forces his eyes open, lifting his head to watch him roll it on and coat it with more lube, and Jaebum kisses the other thigh to catch his attention, grinning at him as he finally shuffles forward onto his knees. “I love you too, Jae.”

Any attempt at his reply is cut off as Jaebum lines up and pushes into him, moving slowly but still stealing the air from Youngjae’s lungs as his head falls back, hands scrabbling at the sheets. Jaebum grabs one, tangling their fingers together as he slides deeper until his hips are finally pressed against the round swell of Youngjae’s ass, and Youngjae whimpers as he lifts their linked hands to press his face into Jaebum’s skin.

Jaebum scatters kisses along Youngjae’s calves and thighs and anything he can reach, stroking his fingers soothingly along his skin for the half a dozen breaths it takes for him to feel Youngjae relax around him fully, then waiting until Youngjae’s shifting under him, grip tight on Jaebum’s hand, and whining with a touch of impatience. 

“Move now, hyung? Please?”

Still slow, Jaebum pulls back and pushes in again shallowly twice more, waiting until the slide is easier before sinking back in completely, and this time Youngjae’s whimper holds no trace of discomfort, his hips pushing back to meet Jaebum and searching for more friction, and Jaebum slides his hand down his thigh before wrapping it around Youngjae, dragging his fist along the length as he pulls out and pushes in.

The hot clench of Youngjae around him and makes it hard to keep his movements careful, but dance has taught him to control at least some aspects of his body, and he keeps the motions steady until he can feel Youngjae leaking in his grip and the next thrust has Youngjae keening, back arching off the bed as he rocks up against him. When Youngjae forces himself up to meet Jaebum on the following push, the dull slap of skin connecting combined with noises pouring from Youngjae’s throat makes Jaebum’s lungs catch and he groans as Youngjae clenches around him, his hips pulling back and snapping forward in an echo of the choreography he’d been performing only a few hours before.

Youngjae’s voice is probably too loud for the hotel room walls, but Jaebum can’t bring himself to care as he earns another sobbing moan with next clap of skin against skin. “Li–like that, hyung, please!”

Their hands are still linked, and Youngjae ends up with his arm above his head, pinned to the mattress as Jaebum grunts in acknowledgement and leans forward to brace himself when he snaps his hips forward again. Taking advantage of Jaebum hovering above him, Youngjae arches up and crashes their lips together with something less than finesse and more than desire, and they both groan into the kiss as Youngjae’s position changes the angle of Jaebum’s thrusts. Free arm wrapping around Jaebum’s back, Young clings to him and holds himself close as he breaks away to press his face into Jaebum’s neck, gasping sobs and whimpered half-words as Jaebum finds his prostate again and again, and Jaebum feels the drag of short hairs against his cheeks like a burn. He turns to find skin, mouthing along Youngjae’s neck and under his ear, and Youngjae shudders as his lungs catch, his chest pressing closer as his back curves, and Jaebum’s struggling to focus on the movement of his hips when every part of Youngjae is so distracting and dizzying.

He presses his lips the the shell of Youngjae’s ear, nuzzling against him as Youngjae drops his head forward and whimpers, his hips coming up to meet Jaebum erratically, and Jaebum can hardly breathe. “I love you. I love you so much, Youngjae.”

Youngjae’s fingers dig into Jaebum’s back as he sobs, his lips trailing desperate, wet kisses along his skin and choking frantic words against his pulse. “I–too, hyung. Love you. So–so much, I–”

He doesn’t finish, cutting off with a high, shuddering whine. Jaebum can feel Youngjae’s dick dragging hard against his stomach, leaving wet streaks as he rocks into the mattress with each stroke, and he can feel Youngjae’s tension in the shaking of taunt muscles and the tight grip of his arm around him. He tightens hand over Youngjae’s, nuzzling his face into the soft shave of his undercut. “Come on, baby. You’re close, yeah?”

“So close–faster, please, I’m–please, hyung!”

There’s no way Jaebum can resist the sobbing pleas, not when he can feel his own pressure building, everything tight and hot and wet with a coating of sweat and precum and lube that makes everything sticky and messy and so real that Jaebum can’t help but find it headily arousing. He fixates on the proof that this isn’t a dream, that it isn’t just some vivid memory or imagination, when the reality of Youngjae beneath him–clinging to him, letting him touch him and hold him like this, letting him be this close, and begging for more–seemed like such an impossible fantasy for so long. When he thought he could lose it forever. The dull smack of skin against skin blends with Youngjae’s frantic whines and groans and his own harsh grunts to create a melody that he’ll never be able to beat with his music, no matter how hard he tries to capture the perfection of the moment when he’s teetering on the brink, the sight and sound and taste and smell and feel of Youngjae a mess of all consuming and intoxicating sensations as his whimpers turn into a high keen and he clenches around Jaebum. Strong thighs squeeze as legs wrap around Jaebum’s waist, pulling him even deeper as Youngjae shakes and paints Jaebum’s stomach with cum, and Jaebum’s hips stutter, arms shaking as he loses the last of his control, pressed as deep and close together as he can get, and drowning in the moment.

It’s a long stretch of minutes after his arms give out and he collapses on top of Youngjae before Jaebum tries to pull away, and Youngjae whimpers as he’s forced to untangle his legs from around him. 

The desperation of sex fading into a lingering, sated afterglow, Jaebum’s lips tug up as he drops a kiss on Youngjae’s forehead, smoothing his sweaty fringe out of the way. “I’m sorry, Jae, but I need to go get a towel. I’ll clean you up unless you want a real shower tonight.”

Whining, Youngjae uses the arm still around Jaebum’s back to pull him back down, nuzzling his face into his neck. “No shower. No towel. Just you, hyung.”

Laughing, Jaebum is glad that Youngjae’s closed eyes means he can’t see the way he flushes, unreasonably flustered by the comment considering the way they’re twined together naked and surrounded by the smell of sex. “You’re gonna regret that in the morning when we wake up stuck together and smelling like that one time.”

Jaebum can feel Youngjae’s nose wrinkle against his skin. “Ugh. Okay.” His hand flops against the mattress as he lets his arm fall, lips jutted out in a sulk, and Jaebum can’t resist leaning in catch them, earning a sleepily enthusiastic response before he pulls away.

Youngjae lets him get them both wiped down and into a clean boxers before he insists on dragging Jaebum back onto the bed, and maneuvering him so that he’s lying with his front to Youngjae’s back.

“Hug me while we sleep like you used to, hyung?”

The words are spoken softly, almost hesitantly, and Jaebum’s heart clenches before he’s wrapping his arms around Youngjae, pulling him tight against him until he can feel rise and fall of his breaths, and slinging a leg over his thighs, feeling them shift beneath him. It’s the little things that his memory struggled to recall when Youngjae wasn’t there, and the sensations filter into his chest, fill in the little empty spot, and Youngjae hums happily as he presses his face into the back of the younger boy’s head and breathes deeply.

“You’re smelling me again, hyung.”

Jaebum’s lips curve and he pulls Youngjae a little closer, grin widening as he grumbles before shifting back even further. “You’re still better than a stuffed animal.”

“I’m not a teddy bear, hyung.”

Jaebum thinks about Youngjae’s smile, his laugh, and the sound of his voice when he talked or joked or sang. The way he flailed when he was happy or nervous and the way he danced and jumped around excitedly. The scattering of moles on his skin and the roundness of his thighs. He thinks about a million other things that he never knew he could love about a person before he met Youngjae. 

“I know.” His fingers creep along Youngjae’s arm, finding his hand and tangling them together. “Like I said, you’re better. Now go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Youngjae’s yawn is hot against Jaebum’s arm, and Jaebum knows he’s probably going to have a patch of drool on his arm by morning, but it’s just another little thing he missed when Youngjae wasn’t there. “I love you, hyung.” 

“I love you too, Youngjae.” Jaebum presses the curve of his smile against his neck, a jumble of feelings in his chest that makes it ache, his arms tightening uncontrollably. “And I’ll be here for you. Always.” The notes of their song play in his head, and Jaebum swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut.

Youngjae’s nod is more of a nuzzle into Jaebum’s arm. “Always.”

Jaebum clings to the promise as he listens to Youngjae’s breaths even out. He knows that things will get hard again, that this moment can’t last forever however much he wants it to, but it’s here now. The moment. Youngjae. Him. They’re together now and, in the end, that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY. LET ME GO DIE IN SHAME. Okay, but actually, this really might be awful... it's my first time actually writing smut this explicit. So of course it's with my precious fluffy otp... A portion of the responsibility for this filth goes to my 2jae soulmate, Dani, who is NOWHERE NEAR AS INNOCENT AS YOU ALL THINK and helped inspire some of the stuff in this. That said, if it's awful, that's all on me!
> 
> Um... I think that's all I have to say for myself. Other than another apology. I am trash. I am the worst kind of trash. I'm sorry for torturing all of you with this. If you want to yell at me (or come be trash with me??) you can find me as [mark2young2jae](http://mark2young2jae.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Goodbyeeeeeeeee <3


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